3 hours ago
Prize the new night ahead,
under neon’s cool moon-sky.
Our soft migrating urges,
still monkey-guided, confused.
Vin et chocolat, Ben?
At the table, tugging thoughts.
We’re practically alive,
cradle-mourning time.
Oh sun, abate your eye-
crude, reeking servant.
Nighttime, my vivid cavity,
linger raw among us.
Ben - claws or cleaver now?
Our sun has lost entitlement.
His last cues, unclear still,
yet echo in my ears.
under neon’s cool moon-sky.
Our soft migrating urges,
still monkey-guided, confused.
Vin et chocolat, Ben?
At the table, tugging thoughts.
We’re practically alive,
cradle-mourning time.
Oh sun, abate your eye-
crude, reeking servant.
Nighttime, my vivid cavity,
linger raw among us.
Ben - claws or cleaver now?
Our sun has lost entitlement.
His last cues, unclear still,
yet echo in my ears.